


When Everything Changes

by LynMars79



Series: Aeryn Striker [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Backstory, Child POV, Childhood, Coerthas, Gen, Midlander Hyur (Final Fantasy XIV), Pre-Calamity, Pre-Canon, Siblings, Sixth Astral Era, Slice of Life, after a bit of kid angst, child worries, just cute and happy mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynMars79/pseuds/LynMars79
Summary: 20 years before the Seventh Umbral Calamity, little Zaine Striker has to deal with a major change to his family life.
Series: Aeryn Striker [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632130
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	When Everything Changes

**Author's Note:**

> _((Been working on this one awhile, not sure where it came from, but I've enjoyed figuring out 5 year old Zaine's voice and his reactions. The bond between the siblings was always strong as they grew up despite the age gap, but Zaine wasn't too certain at first...))_

Zaine poked at a snail’s shell frozen to the top of the low stone wall. He guessed it had been stuck there before the winter had taken hold, trying to escape the cool rains of autumn. He wondered if the snail had found a new home, abandoning this one. He liked to think so.

“Zaine? You get those eggs?”

He sighed heavily. “Coming Nana Michelle!” He called back. He hefted his little basket taken from the chicken coop in the backyard—he’d only gotten pecked a few times this morning—and tromped through the frosty mud and grass into the warm kitchen.

Nana Michelle was an elder elezen woman that Zaine had known his entire five years. She watched over the smaller children during the long services at the chapel twice a week, always ready with stories, treats, and hugs. Zaine had been staying with her for a little over a whole moon now, which was practically forever. He loved Nana Michelle, of course—but he missed his parents and his own room in their home.

It was all that stupid baby’s fault.

Mama had gotten very sick as her belly grew and stretched. The chirugeon and another conjurer had come to see her, ordering her to stay in bed in the final weeks. There had been a lot of mutterings and whispers no one had let him hear.

Zaine had tried to help; tried to be good, tried to do what he was told, but Mama was never sick before this and Papa was suddenly very short tempered and upset at just _everything_ and Zaine seemed to do _everything_ wrong and was too loud and too much. He still didn’t know what he’d done that was so bad.

Nana Michelle smiled down at him and took the eggs. “Good work. Now wash up and I’ll have these scrambled for us to share in no time.”

Zaine perked up. “Can you mix in the bacon?” He asked.

She chuckled. “We’ll be mixing in everything, dearie, it’s a special day. But that’s a surprise for later. Go on, now.”

Zine nodded and ran to the little washroom. Scrambled eggs with everything mixed together was his favorite breakfast so today must be a good day. It was hard to make sure he washed properly--Nana Michelle always knew when he didn’t somehow--but he sang the little song she taught all the children to make sure they didn’t forget a step and got everything clean. By the time he got back to the kitchen, Nana Michelle was halfway through cooking.

“There’s juice for you on the table,” she said. “This’ll be ready soon.”

Juice?! This really must be a big day. Zaine climbed up on the chair with the cushioned block on it that let him sit at the high table without having to be in a baby’s chair. A small cup filled most of the way with orange juice waited for him. He lifted it carefully and took a small sip. It was hard to not want to drink all the tangy sweetness at once, but this was a very special treat and deserved to be savored.

He set the cup down again, careful not to slosh or spill any of the precious drink, and looked at Nana Michelle’s back. “What’s so special about today?”

“One moment, dearie; I need to get this just right. I will tell you in a few minutes when I don’t have to pay attention to the stove,” she replied patiently. Zaine liked how she always told him why she couldn’t answer or do something right away. A lot of grown ups just said “not now” even when it seemed like they weren’t doing anything important.

He could even count on one hand, as Mama said, how many times Nana Michelle had been cross at him, ever. Even then she didn’t yell--which sometimes was actually worse.

Thinking of Mama made him sad again. He missed her. She made sure to always scramble his breakfast before they went to chapel.

* * *

A little over a moon ago, Papa had been waiting for Zaine after his morning of lessons and play with Master Ilfeure and the other village children. Papa had a bag filled with some of Zaine’s clothes and favorite toys. He had gotten down on a knee to be closer to Zaine’s height.

“Now listen, son; you know your Mama’s very sick, and I have to take care of her...and the new baby when it arrives,” Papa said, his hand on Zaine’s shoulder squeezing, his voice wavering. “I know you want to help…”

“I keep messing up,” Zaine said. Seeing Papa so upset was making Zaine twitch. “I’m sorry, I’ll try harder—”

“No, no Zaine, it’s all right; you’ve been very good, and doing your best, I—” Papa swallowed hard. “I’m the one who’s been messing up.” Papa took a deep breath. “The conjurer thinks Mama needs more quiet and attention. She’s going to be staying around more, to make sure Mama and the baby are taken care of. That’s going to make things crowded.”

“She can share my room, I’m little so I won’t be too in her way!”

Papa chuckled, though it didn’t sound right. He ruffled Zaine’s hair. “Always a helper,” he said. “There is a way you can help, but it’s going to be hard.”

Zaine did his best to square back his shoulders and nod. “What is it?”

Papa took a moment to answer. “We need you to stay with Nana Michelle for a little while. Until the baby’s born and Mama’s health settles a bit.”

A flutter of panic filled Zaine’s chest, but he swallowed hard. A little while couldn’t be too bad. And Nana Michelle was nice. “All right, Papa.”

It took a few days and some crying and many questions for Zaine to realize that the adults had a different idea of “a little while” than he did. That conversation with Papa felt like forever ago, and though he had visited Zaine and Nana Michelle a few times, it only made Zaine miss home more.

And he hadn’t seen Mama at all, since leaving home that morning.

* * *

A plate of scrambled breakfast was set in front of Zaine, breaking into his thinking. Bits of green and red and bacon and cheese were all through the plate of eggs and he grinned. “Thanks, Nana Michelle!”

She chuckled. “You’re very welcome, dearie.” She sat down to her own breakfast, a similarly scrambled plate. She buttered the toast and passed two slices to Zaine. “Once you finish that, we’re going to need to pack up your things.”

He paused and looked up at her. “Pack my things?”

She nodded, smiling at him. “You’re going to go back home, dearie. And you’ll get to meet your baby sister today.”

He frowned and took a bite of his eggs. Going home sounded great--but the baby was a change he still wasn’t sure about.

* * *

He had only been at Nana Michelle’s house for a little over a sennight when the chirugeon’s assistant had come to the door to speak quietly with her. Zaine had snuck out of bed and listened. He knew he wasn’t supposed to, but this was _important_. The wind was rising as a storm came in from the north, making it hard to hear.

“--Earlier than expected,” the twitchy young man was saying.

“But not too early,” Nana Michelle said, calm as always.

“No, thank the Fury. Still more difficult than we even feared.”

“Best for you to get back then. I’ll wait here, and pray.”

“The boy—”

“Will be told when he needs to be,” Nana Michelle used her firm voice. “I’ll not have him scared needlessly. Naught’s happened yet. Bring word when something does.”

Icy rain had started to fall, but the twitchy man left again. Nana Michelle went to the corner where she kept her statue of Halone, her prayer books, her rosaries, and slowly knelt on the pillow she kept for her tired knees. She opened a drawer and pulled out the rosary that had all twelve gods’ symbols on it, her thumb rubbing over the marks on each bead as she quietly prayed.

Zaine crept back to bed, listening to the storm outside, waiting for whatever terrible thing was happening. He was very tired the next morning, and it took time to sink in that the baby had been born, and Mama was going to be all right--once she recovered.

* * *

“Are you all right, dearie?” Nana Michelle asked. “I’d thought you’d be excited. Surely you don’t want to stay in this stuffy old lady’s little house,” she teased.

He smiled for her. “You aren’t stuffy, Nana Michelle, and I like it here. I mean, I wanna go home, sure, but.” He frowned, trying to think how to say what he felt.

“Things will be different,” she said gently. “There will be much attention and time given to the little one, but Zaine--your parents don’t love you any less.”

“Then why’d they send me away?” He blurted, his fork banging on the plate. He stared at the eggs he had left to eat, eyes watery.

She reached across and put a hand over his. Hers were large and wrinkly, rough from a lifetime of work, but always warm and comforting. “I know it’s hard to understand how this could be for the best,” she said. She shook her head when he began to interrupt. “But to take care of your mama when she was sick, and still make sure you were taken care of, your papa had to make some choices.”

“I coulda helped, I _tried_ to help—”

“I know, dearie; but sometimes, things are too big for us to handle on our own. When they got too big for your papa, he had to make some hard choices.”

Zaine looked up, confused. “Too big for Papa?”

Nana Michelle nodded. “It can happen, believe it or not. So you came here to help me, while your papa took care of your mama. And then your sister. But now, Mama’s feeling better, and the baby’s well enough, too. And they need a good older brother to help watch over her.”

He looked away again, thinking about that. When he first found out Mama was going to have a baby, he had been excited. But as time had gone on and things had gotten bad, his mind had changed. This baby had been nothing but trouble, even making him leave his own house.

“I don’t know if I wanna,” he said. A little bit just to see what Nana Michelle said.

She was quiet for a bit, then squeezed his hand. “After all of this, I suppose that’s expected,” she said. “Can I ask that you at least try?”

“...Sure,” he replied. “We gotta finish our breakfast ‘fore it gets cold, right?” She couldn’t argue with that and he didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

Nana Michelle chuckled, patting his arm before returning to her own breakfast. “That’s right, dearie. We can worry about the rest when we’ve finished and cleaned up.”

* * *

He knew he was being surly and making things difficult for Nana Michelle as he dawdled on helping clean up breakfast, and then gathering his things for her. She remained patient as ever, packing his few clothes and toys and his little booklet and slate for practicing his letters.

It couldn’t be put off forever, and huffing out a breath, he took Nana Michelle’s hand as they left her house and crossed the village to his own home. The distance seemed both so much longer and shorter than he remembered; he wondered how that worked. He was excited to see his mama and his room and the things he hadn’t been able to take with him, but also the baby would be there, with her own new things taking up space, and her own noises—Zaine didn’t know much about babies, except they were _always_ making noise and smells and needing adults to hold them all the time.

If Mama and Papa were always holding the baby, when could they hold Zaine?

That was a stupid thought; he wasn’t a baby himself anymore, he didn’t need that. Even if a little voice in the back of his mind whined that he still _wanted_ to be held.

Everything outside looked the same, under the winter snow and grey skies. The wind was cold and stung his nose and cheeks. It would start getting warmer again soon though, and that would be fun. He might even be big enough to help tend the sheep.

The door of his parents house opened before Nana Michelle could knock, and Zaine sucked in a very cold breath. Mama was there, almost as small as she had been before the baby, laughing and reaching down to pull him into a tight hug.

“[Oh my boy, my sweet boy,]” she said in Thavnairian, dropping kisses on his face as she squeezed him.

He didn’t mind she was squishing him; he clung to his mama and kissed her back. “[I missed you,]” he told her.

Nana Michelle laughed. “At least let us inside, Emelia, it’s cold out here!”

Mama stopped squeezing so tight but didn’t let go as she stood, leaning on Zaine for support as she wobbled a bit. “Sorry, Michelle, please do come in. I just—”

Nana Michelle shook her head, chuckling. “He’s missed you too.”

Zaine was about to tell her he’d already said that, but then remembered Nana Michelle didn’t speak Thavnairian. Maybe he should teach her.

“Come on, Zaine,” Mama said, smiling down and oh he’d almost forgotten how pretty she was, with her skin that stayed tan even in winter, and her long dark hair and her dark eyes. She pulled him inside and helped him take off his coat. “I bet you’re excited to meet your new sister.”

His heart dropped a little, but she looked so happy--tired, like she wasn’t sleeping enough while working hard, but beaming so brightly it didn’t bother her. So Zaine smiled and nodded. “Sure, Mama.”

“I’ll go ahead and put his things away for you, dearie,” Nana Michelle said. “But I do expect some time to hold the new little one!”

“Of course, Michelle!” Mama said, leading Zaine into the house and helping him take off his hat, coat, gloves, and boots. He remembered his house slippers were in the bag Nana Michelle had, but then Mama handed him new slippers, knit in a nice, thick grey wool. “I hope these fit; I’ve been knitting them when I can,” she said.

“They’re good,” Zaine replied, pulling them on. They did fit--maybe a little big, actually, but that was all right--and they were warm. His old ones had been getting tight.

Nana Michelle took off her own outerwear and borrowed a spare pair of Mama’s slippers. “I’ll put these in his room,” she said. “Where’s—?”

“Here,” Papa said, coming out of his and Mama’s room, holding a squirming bundle. “She’s just woken up and is getting fussy. Won’t take a bottle, though; probably wants Mama.”

Nana Michelle hurried across the room to coo over the baby while Mama took Zaine’s hand again--he wished she’d pick him up, but he guessed she was too tired--and led him to the little sofa. “Bring her here, darling,” Mama said as she and Zaine sat down. “Sit all the way back, honey, that’s it. Hopefully she’s not so fussy you can’t hold her for a little bit before I feed her.”

He wanted to tell her no, it was all right, he didn’t need-- _want_ \--to hold this squirmy, noisy little creature that had so upended his life. But he also didn’t want to upset or disappoint her and Papa; they might send him away again.

Papa came over--he also looked really tired, his blue-grey eyes hiding behind deep circles--and smiled, leaning down as a tiny fist broke free of the blanket and waved in the air, an unhappy warble coming from the bundle. “I don’t know if she can wait that long, impatient little thing,” he said. “Put your hand here, and the other here--yes, like that, gotta support her head, good…”

She was heavier than Zaine thought she’d be, at least to his small arms. She mostly rested on his lap, her head propped in his elbow. She was small and squishy and red-faced, ready to start crying any moment. Thin strands of black hair covered her head. Just as she opened her mouth to yell, she opened her baby grey-blue eyes, locking onto Zaine’s own.

He sucked in a breath as they just stared at each other, rest of the room forgotten. Her squirming settled and the crying never came, a happy burble rising from her instead. Then a yawn, and she relaxed right back into sleep.

“Damn,” Papa said. “That’s the fastest and easiest she’s fallen asleep so far.”

Zaine blinked, looking up, the three adults watching with absolutely sappy expressions on all their faces. Normally he would have run as fast as he could to get away from that kind of attention.

But that would mean letting go of _her_ , and that was the _last_ thing he wanted to do.

“What’s her name?” He whispered.

“Aeryn,” Mama answered.

Zaine looked back down. Aeryn. His baby sister. He didn’t know how to explain how he felt in that very first moment they looked at each other--like something had been lost, and now he’d found it again, but that didn’t make sense because she hadn’t been there before.

“Here, let me take her so you—”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, holding her a little closer; not too tight, though. He didn’t want to squish her, she already looked squishy enough. “I can hold her a little longer.”

“You’ll be a good brother, Zaine,” Nana Michelle said gently.

He smiled sheepishly, remembering his fit at breakfast. That seemed forever ago, and that version of himself very stupid.

“I will,” he promised--to Aeryn, not the grownups. She was going to be loud, and messy, and take up all the time and attention because that was what babies _did_ , but that was fine, because she was _his_ sister and the matching piece he hadn’t known he was missing, but now that he did, he was going to show her _everything_.


End file.
